Presumption of Innocence
by bsgroxmysox
Summary: Demoted, demoralised and devastated. Will Pope's life has turned upside down and as he tries to clear his name, he realises he has a friend in Sharon Raydor. But what happens when those feelings go beyond friendship?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: This is an A/U I started a while ago and thanks to ddagent and her awesome feedback I've decided to post it. It's still a WIP but I have the end in sight.  
**A/N2**: The summary is crap...sorry about that!

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They turned on him.

There was no other way to describe what happened to Assistant Chief of Police William Pope during the worst 4months of his life. The LAPD, the place he practically called home, had turned their back on him.

Cardboard boxes lined his office. Or what was once his office.

He watched the new owner flick through the open boxes, all the while offering apologies for what had happened to him.

"And you know this was nothing personal, Will. It's just one of those things."

Will grunted and lifted the one remaining box that was his as he watched Brenda Leigh Johnson as she began placing items on her new desk.

"With everything that happened I just hope we can still be friends."

Anger built up inside him and rebuttal after rebuttal popped into his brain but he managed to bite his tongue. Instead he nodded at his ex-lover, ex-friend and now...boss.

"Whatever you say, Assistant Chief Leigh," he whispered before leaving her alone in her office.

He passed by the Major Crimes department, almost cringing at the looks of sympathy he received from everyone. Well almost everyone. Deputy Chief Spencer avoided eye contact at all times as Will passed through the corridor.

Spencer was settling in to his new job as head of Major Crimes, leaving his old job open to the now demoted Will.

_Demoted_, he thought with a snarl.

He kicked the door of his new office closed, slid the box onto his new desk, flopped into his new chair and closed his eyes. His hands rose automatically to massage his temples, trying to ease away the tension headache he felt building.

"Had a rough day?"

So caught up in his misery, he hadn't heard the door open again. Glancing up he saw the head of FID leaning against the entrance, her arms crossed across her chest and her eyes as equally sympathetic as the members of Major Crimes, although much kinder.

"Got myself a new job. Not exactly the one I wanted but..." he drifted off.

Her eyes softened and she stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her. She situated herself against the edge of his desk and refolded her arms. He noticed she did that a lot.

"I know it's not ideal, Chief-" she stopped herself abruptly. "Oh God, Commander I'm sorry. I'm just so used to..."

"It's ok, Captain Raydor. It will all take a bit of getting used to. I'm sorry you got me as a boss now."

"I'm not. You're a great police officer. I look forward to working with you."

She smiled at him and he felt the headache easing slightly. Maybe he had a friend in all this mess.

"I didn't do it." He whispered to her, desperate for someone to belief in him. She tilted her head, surveying him closely as he spoke.

"You have to believe me, someone set me up."

She took a moment to consider his words before slowly nodding. "I believe you."

Will exhaled sharply. She was the first person within the LAPD, and probably outside, who believed him.

"I'm gonna find out who did this." He added.

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you. If you ever need someone to talk to, over coffee or something stronger, let me know. Okay?" she asked.

"That'd be nice. Thank you Captain."

She grinned at him and moved from his desk, back towards the door.

"Actually, I could something stronger right now. You got some time?"

Her expression as she turned around was all the answer he needed. Her mouth was set in a frown and her eyes held an apology.

"I'm sorry, it's Thursday and every Thursday is Mom and daughter night in my house. She's my youngest and she'll be going to college next year."

"Say no more, I understand." He honestly did. He dreaded the day his kids left the nest. "Enjoy your girly night doing...whatever it is you do on a girly night."

"Usually watch some silly romance movie and talk about important matters," she giggled. "You know, make-up, hairstyles; the really significant things."

"Of course. Enjoy your night."

"You too, Commander." With that she was gone.

Will moved to search through the solitary box in the corner. Everything else had been unpacked earlier in the day. The bottle of scotch felt heavy in his hand, almost as heavy as his burdens that weighed on his shoulders.

Settling in his seat once more he poured himself a glass and stared at the new nameplate on his desk. He considered hurling it against the wall but it was too late for dramatics now. He was resigned to this sudden change in his life and career.

His fingers traced over the glided letters as he downed his drink in one swallow.

_Commander William Pope_

_Head of Internal Affairs_


	2. Chapter 2

"Thank you officer, we'll be there in 15 minutes."

Sharon placed the phone back into its cradle with a sigh. She was hoping for a quiet day at the office, finishing the mountain of paperwork that was piling up on her desk. _On all their desks, _she mused as she watched each of her detectives wearily foraging through their own paperwork.

_Which one to take with me_, she contemplated.

A movement on the other side of the room caught her eye and she spotted Will Pope as he signed a report and handed it back to a young officer, offering a friendly smile to the youngster.

The young man simply snatched the papers out of his hand and walked away without so much as a thank you. She watched as Will hung his head and sighed in resignation and was immediately overcome with compassion for the man who once practically ran the LAPD, now ignored by his fellow officers.

Another quick glance at her detectives solidified the idea that had begun to form in her mind. She picked her bag and the notepad she had used to take down all the details of the incident in question.

Rushing towards her boss as he turned away she called out. "Commander Pope?"

He turned around swiftly with such a hopeful expression it pained Sharon to see.

"I just got called out to interview an officer who stopped a robbery, would you help me out and come with me. I need the rest of my team to finish up their paperwork – this century preferably."

He broke into a grin like no other she had ever seen. She didn't know whether he found her joke funny or if he was happy just to leave the office. _Probably the latter_, she mused.

"I'd love to, Captain. Thank you."

He followed her to the car garage and didn't even argue when she told him she was driving. Sharon always preferred to drive whenever she and her team were called out anywhere. She liked being in control, something she never felt with someone else behind the wheel.

Lieutenant Paul Lewis was confidant, borderline cocky, and that showed in his manic driving. Zipping in and out of lanes, dodging traffic, even when they weren't in a hurry. She had the made the mistake of letting him drive on a coffee run once.

Those burns from the steaming hot lattes stayed with her for weeks. The memory of them stayed with her forever.

Detective Emily O'Hara was the complete opposite. Although she was younger than Lewis, only in her mid 30's, she drove slower than Sharon's 89 year old grandmother had.

When you are one of the most hated departments with the police force it's not the best idea to show up 2 and a half hours late to a crime scene. The Major Crimes department reminded her of that little mishap at every chance they got.

And of course the nickname of Detective Daniel "Crash" Montgomery was enough to convince her that she should always be the designated driver.

She navigated her way through the LA streets with ease, filling Will in on the details of the case as she drove the short journey to the hospital.

"A robbery took place in a 7/11 while an officer was in the store. He managed to stop the robbery but broke several of the perp's bones in the process. We're just doing a routine interview."

"Uh Captain, I really appreciate getting out of the office but I don't think this cop is gonna want to talk to me."

"Well that's just tough because he's going to have to." She answered back quickly as she pulled into an available parking space near the hospital entrance.

She swiftly exited the car leaving Will no choice but to follow her. Which he did, arms swinging at his side like a petulant child.

"You have no idea what it's like to be the most hated person in the LAPD," he muttered bitterly.

"Really? Are you telling me, that the Wicked Witch of the East has no idea what it's like to be vilified by your fellow officers? Hmm, fancy that."

Will's face turned bright red when he realised his mistake. Although Sharon was upset about everything that had happened to him, she felt a small tinge of happiness that someone else finally understood what she went through on a daily basis.

"I'm sorry Commander that was insensitive of me."

"No, no you're right. I'm sorry. We can be hated together."

She felt a smile tug at her lips. "I'd like that. Hated together won't be quite as lonely."

They made the rest of the walk into the emergency room in comfortable silence. Officer Harris was sitting on a gurney as a nurse tended to a small wound on his shoulder. He immediately rolled his eyes when he saw them approaching.

"Well if this isn't a match made in heaven." Sarcasm dripped off the young man's tongue when they walked up to him.

"Officer Harris, we're not here to make your life-"

"Forget it Captain Raydor, you and _Commander_ Pope have shown your colours many times and they certainly aren't the blue of the uniform you supposedly represent."

"Now you listen here-"

Will's face turned red with anger but a quick glance from Sharon silenced him.

"Just tell us what happened in your own words please." She didn't bother smiling as she spoke, it usually never worked.

The story was pretty run of the mill; guys tries to rob store, guy tries to resist arrest, and guy ends up in hospital with 3 broken ribs. Sharon was about to finish with the interview when something seemed to spark Will's interest.

"So when the old woman screamed that I was a cop, I saw him panic and I charged him. That's what knocked him into the stand and hurt himself."

"Wait, you didn't try to apprehend the suspect straight away?" Will asked.

"No. I was scoping the place out, trying to see the best way to take him down without hurting anyone. There a problem with that, Commander?"

"What? Oh no of course not...just...thorough note taking."

Will scribbled furiously in his notepad while Sharon thanked the officer for his time. The walk back to the car was silent once again but this time Will was staring into space, as if something was on his mind.

"You okay?" She asked when they were back in the LAPD building and moving towards their offices.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, I'm fine."

Sharon wasn't sure whether she believed him but they had arrived at his office and further discussion was clearly not on his mind. As she moved passed him a hand grasped her arm.

"Thank you. For taking me with you. It was nice to be a detective in the field again, rather than cooped up in the office."

"It was no problem, Commander."

With a final caress to her arm he turned and walked into his office. Sharon moved back to her own office, shocked to find the mountain of paperwork on her desk was now only a small hill.

"We thought we'd make it a bit easier for you, Captain. All you have to do is sign them." Crash spoke from where he was standing near the door.

"Thank you, Detective. That was very kind of you all."

"It was no problem. We saw you take Pope with you, figured if you were that desperate then maybe we should help you out. He was probably terrible to work with."

Sharon smiled gratefully at her fellow officer but she couldn't help feeling that they were wrong. Will Pope wasn't terrible to work with, in fact she found him to be quite the opposite.

Even though their case had been a short one, she found that she quite liked working with Will Pope.


End file.
